Closing Your Eyes To See
by AmberXAutopsy
Summary: Detective Gordon couldn't pass up the once in a lifetime opportunity to hear about The Joker and who he really was behind all the grease paint and terror, told by the one person the scarred man might have actually cared for.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My first Joker story so please be gentle. :) I know there's nothing really about the joker in here but references, but that will all totally change next chapter. :)**

**Italics are Tyrion's memories/ the story she's tellinng Detective Gordon.**

**Sorry if it's confusing.**

**Enjoy!**

**xxxxxxxxx **

She watched as detective Gordon stared down at his lap, his head lowered, eyes moving occasionally over the manila folder that sat opened in his lap as he read, his pen, clenched between his pointer finger and thumb, mindlessly tapping against the table that sat between them.

It was a sound that would force some into annoyance.

Drive them 'insane'.

But, to her, it was welcomed. Even bringing a small smile to her face as the pace rose and fell, never once matching the one before it.

Silence was common place at Arkham.

She hated silence.

It was always so...loud.

"So, Tyrion," he finally said, his eyes still cast down at the folder. "Tell me about The Joker."

"The Joker?" She heard herself ask, her smile widening slightly, the feigned shock and misunderstanding evident in her voice, letting it fall easily from her lips, not even trying to conceal her deceit. "What would I possibly know of The Joker...?"

Detective Gordon let out a humorless laugh, her gaze following as his head swiveled, his eyes turning pointingly to the stack of folders that sat in the corner, leaning precariously against the wall.

"By the look of the stack over there... A few years worth, I'd say."

She smiled at his words, biting the inside of her lip before leaning forward, her chest pressing against the chilled metal of the table, glinting dully in the dim light cast down by the bare bulb that hung down above their heads. Her paper gown crinkled as it bent, her arms raising, elbows coming to against the darkened surface.

"Are you sure about that?" Her voice low as she spoke, watching the man before her raise an eyebrow.

"Completely."

"Would you stake your life on it?"

The smile fell from her face as her eyes locked with his, surprising her when he looked away, dropping his eyes to his hands, laid mere inches from hers.

There was a pause and more silence.

"Yes." He answered, meeting her eyes again, his gaze steady and sure, never faultering, bringing the grin back to stretch across her bruised skin, pulling it tight.

"What do you wanna know?" She asked, waving a hand uselessly in the air between them. "How he liked his eggs in the morning? Or maybe if he had wet dreams about Batman...?"

"Just...start at the beginning." He clarified, pulling a fresh piece of paper from a binder in his briefcase. "Or at whatever point in time you wish."

She sighed, sitting back, her chair groaning at the sudden change of her weight as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Uhm...I was born in May...I was an only child.." here she paused, wrinkling her small nose, her head slowly shaking from side to side."Parents died...ya know, the usual 'evil villain' back story."

She watched as he glanced down at his notes, his eyebrows pulling together as his mouth opened.

"It says here you killed your parent's..." He said, looking up to meet her gaze once more. "Is that true."

"If it's in there then it probably is. And, for the record, I was using the word 'died' loosely." She shrugged, a small chuckle escaping her dry throat. "But yes, technically, I did kill them."

Her voice was casual as she spoke, rising and falling with her words in such a way he had never heard before.

It was almost...mesmerizing.

"After that I was on my own...too young to work or get an apartment...so I spent the nights sleeping under the freeway and the days digging through people trash for food and running from their dogs."

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen."

"Fourteen?" He asked, shock rolling through his body as he tried to image his children at that young age trying to survive out in the world alone.

She let out a laugh once more at his tone, her head tilting to the side causing some of her fiery hair to fall, framing her face. "So you feel sorry for me?"

"Well...of course." He said, his words slow and measured. "Any child at that age alone in the world would sadden any normal adult..."

"Normalcy is an overrated concept, Mr. Gordon." She said, her words suddenly tight, sharp. "The 'normal' adults turned me away when I needed help. Giving the excuse that they simply had 'no funds'."

She let out a irritated snort and turned her eyes away before continuing. "When I finally did receive help, if you can even call it that, it was over a year later. Working under the table washing dirty laundry a the local hospital."

"And, you were...fifteen?" He asked, his pen poised, mid air, above his notes, scribbling down the information as she nodded her head, her eyes bright and amused.

"But, in all honesty...I really can't be upset with the woman who found me that job."

"Why's that?" He found himself asking, watching a soft, far away look break in her eyes as they dropped to her lap.

"Because, Mr. Gordon...that's where I met the man who would change my life forever."

Her smile didn't touch her eyes when she looked back up moments later, instead, he could have sworn, he saw what looked like sadness.

His notes were suddenly forgotten he leaned forward, his arms crossing over the folder in his lap as he spoke, his voice low tomatching hers.

"Tell me about it."

She let out a humorless chuckle and shrugged. "I really don't think you'll see what I see in this story..."

"I'd still like to hear."

Unsure, she nodded. "Alright. But, remember, you asked."

"Please." He urged, waving his hand towards her, prompting her to start.

Lifting her eyes to stare at the wall over his shoulder she took a deep breath, her fingers tapping, anxiously, against her thigh.

"It was the first really hot day of July and I was making my way upstairs to put some clean towels into the custodians cart..."

_"Tyrion!"_

_She heard a voice behind her call, causing her footsteps to still and her head turn, her attention landing on the supervisor, a young woman, maybe twenty-two or twenty-three, with a blonde bob and tired eyes, hurrying towards her._

_"I'm glad I caught you before you went up." She hurried, looking down at the girl before her. "I was wondering if you would do me a favor?"_

_"I g-guess." She said, watching the woman before her brush a piece of loose hair, fallen from behind her barrett, back behind her ear. "What is i-it?"_

_"One of the nurses upstairs just informed me that 165 is requesting her bedding changed. Since you're going up there anyway, would you mind running over and dropping them off?"_

_Tyrion felt herself shrug, nodding her agreement and waiting while the blonde skipped off, returning seconds later with an arm full of folded white sheets, saying her thanks before Tyrion turned an headed upstairs, oddly glad._

_Mrs. White, room 165's occupant, was a bit of a talker as she had recently come to realize. Always leaning out over the edge if her bed when Tyr passed on her afternoon towel runs, calling out to her as she finished and was making her way back down to the laundry room, asking her to stay awhile and talk._

_She had always declined. Always making up an excuse and hurrying on her way, not really giving Mrs. White another thought as she finished out her day._

_She had never really been a people person._

_Truthfully, she thought the world would be a better place without them._

_They were unnecessary and always seemed to get in the way._

_But, a few days before, she had happened to glance into hee room, the heavy door propped open, her gaze landing on the t.v that hung from the wall, her stride pausing as a peculiar figure streamed across the screen, his face made up in a terrifying way, his unusual clothes were wet and hanging from his frame as he was marched off camera by the police. He turned and yelled something at the reporters, but she had been to far to make out the words, but felt an odd shiver run up her spine as the wide smile, painted onto his face, seemed to grow._

_"You can come in of you like." She suddenly heard a voice say, lowering her gaze to stare ahead at the old woman, tucked into the uncomfortable looking bed, her wrinkled face turned towards her, her watery blue eyes holding the smile that stretched across her face._

_"I-I'm sorry..." Tyrion said, dropping her attention to the floor beneath her feet. "I didn't mean to intrude-"_

_"Oh no, no." Mrs. White said, her shaking hand reaching out and waving her over, gesturing to the chair at her bed side as Tyrion stepped in. "You can sit if you'd like. Or you can stand. Your probably still too young to really care." She chuckled softly to herself, turning back to the tv. _

_"He is the cities biggest menace!" The man on the screen yelled at the woman beside him. "Barely a week goes by without an explosion of some sort. He is a vile...HORRIBLE person and, I know I am not alone when I say; I hope Batman puts an end to him soon!"_

_"I'm sure the while city agree'a with you, Tom." The woman with stiff, over sprayed hair at his side said, giving a curt nod as she looked back at the camera. "We are currently talking about the 'Joker' and his most recent bombing of Crowell Bank-"_

_"Do you know who that is?" suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had settled around them as she pointed a gnarled finger at the screen. Following her finger, Tyrion found herself staring at the clown man from before, his green hair dissolved, the paint that covered his face dripping and cracked, exposing bits of his skin here and there._

_"A c-clown?" Tyrion answered, her voice hesitant questioning. _

_"They call him 'The Joker'." The old woman stated, shaking her head, her white hair, pulled back into a tight ponytail, brushing against her pillows, stacked behind her, with her movement. "He thinks he's some big shot villain."_

_"Th-The people on t.v seem to think that too..."_

_"Their just upset about him blowing up their beloved city. In my opinion, he's just an overly confident circus clown."_

_Lowering her head, Tyrion couldn't help but disagree as the sick feeling of fear gurgled in her uneasy stomach, her palms, now damp with sweat, rubbing nervously over her pants._

_He seemed pretty vicious and evil to her._

_"I-I'd better get back downstairs." She mumbled after clearing her throat, watching the ground as she lift herself to her feet. "I'm sorry I bothered you."_

_"Oh no, honey." The old woman said, her lips parting into what was meant to be a smile, her teeth, stained grey from years of smoking, seeming to over power whatever emotion her smile was supposed to emit onto Tyrion. "I love having company."_

_"S-Still." She said, flashing a small smile before turning to make her way out into the hallway._

_"Cone back any time!" She heard Mrs. White call after her, but she didn't turn or shout a reply over her shoulder._

_She just kept walking._

"After that...I don't know." Tyrion shrugged, tilting her chair back until it teetered on its back legs, the chains, wrapped around her wrists and ankles, chimed, almost musically as her feet lifted off the ground. "I just...started dropping by her room every chance I got. Especially after work. I mean...who wants to go home to an empty house, right?"

"Whatever happened to Mrs. White?" Detective Gordon asked, earning himself a chuckle, a finger, bandaged and bloodied, wagging in his face.

"Impatience will get you nowhere, Mr. Gordon." Tyrion said in a sing song kind of voice, her reddened, sleep deprived eyes narrowing thoughtfully and turning heavenward. "Now...where was I?"

Silence.

"Oh, yeah!"

She released her bottom lip with a pop as her chair came crashing back to the floor, the grating sound if metal against cement setting her teeth on edge as her palms flattened over the dented table top.

_She made her way upstairs, weaving her way through the bustling hallways, her head low, eyes cast down as she counted the thresholds from the corner of her eye, the smile that had started pulling at the corners of her mouth falling as she stepped up, Mrs. White's hushed conversation reaching her ears._

_"You never visit me, Jimmy!" She snapped, her words followed by a pause. "They say I have six months at best! Please bring the kids to see me, Jimmy, just once-"_

_Her words cut off, and, raising her eyes, found the old lady standing before the window in the room, the curtains opened, letting in the dusty late afternoon light, one of her arms outstretched, her hand clenching the night table as she stared down at the receiver in her hand. The slight buzz of the dial tone was the only sound in the room._

_"M-Mrs.W-White?" She said, stepping into the room, leaving the door opened behind her. "Are you okay?"_

_The woman looked up at her voice, a smile gracing her thinned lips. "Of course I am." She said, brushing a hand quickly across her cheeks before starting over to her bed._

_For a moment Tyrion watched the woman struggle, grasping into whatever she passed, trying to keep herself from falling. Finally, glancing over her shoulder she hurried over, pulling Mrs. White's arm over her shoulder despite her weak protests, only letting go when she was perched on the edge if her bed, her breath fast and shallow._

_"Your smile didn't reach your eyes..." Aheldons mumbled, dripping her eyes once more._

_"What?" The old lady asked, pulling the coverage up and over her legs._

_"Your smile didn't touch your eyes..." Tyrion repeated, a bit louder. "It's only an honest smile when your eyes smile too."_

_She felt her cheeks warm at 's chuckle, her thin hand coming up to rest against her forehead, her heavy eyes drifting shut, her labored breathing slowing._

_She waited a moment, watching the moniters._

"Did she die?"

Tyrion looked up at his voice, her eyes scanning the room once or twice as if she had forgetten where she was. Sighing, she shook her head as her hands clenched, nails digging into her palms.

'It almost seems like he, uh, wants her to die, doesn't it.'

Shut up.

"Anyway," she snarled, digging her knuckles into her temples as her eyes shut tight, ignoring the odd look she was receiving from the man who sat before her. "...I hadn't even heard him come. There had been no slow, ominous foot steps like with Michael Meyers. There had been no clashing of blades like with Freddy Krueger. He just...appeared. Almost like out of thin air..."

Detective Gordon watched a grin crawl up her expression and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"...he always has had the tendency to do that."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: as always, Italics are memories/ the story she's telling. :) chapter typed from my phone so any mistakes that managed to slip by I sincerly apologize for. :)**

**xxxxxxxx**

"Is that where you met him?"

She lifted her eyes, her thumbs drumming as she licked her lips, thinking for a moment, seeming to weigh her options before speaking.

"I bet your expecting me to say that we...ran into eachothers arms like we had belonged their our whole lives, aren`t you? Pull some cheesy romantic comedy shit outta my ass?"

He opened his mouth to deny, but she didn`t wait for his words, instead she burst into laughter, her hands coming down onto the table and rattling it`s contents. Loud and familiar, slightly unexpected, thrills of laughter filled the room as he watched her head drop, shoulders shaking.

He had heard that laugh many times before. Usually on the video tapes the Joker always insisted on sending into the police station. It was usually out of sight, shaking the focus of the tape.

"Chaos!" he`d always seem to snarl, his blackened gaze lifting up from whatever unfortunate soul that happened to catch his attentions, his movements stilling as his dark eyes turned up to glare at the camera lens. "Shut the hell up!"

But, she never did.

He waited in silence until she calmed, his eyes downcast as the space around them grew quiet once more.

"Well," she continued, her voice low, his eyes raising, rolling over the porcelain skin pulled tight across her nose and cheeks, flushed pink from laughing as she leaned forward to pluck a cigarette from the pack that laid open on the table, casting her mismatched eyes to met his as she let the lighter drop from her fingers and skid across the table top.

'This girl...she can`t be the mass murderer the files claim she is...'

She looked so...normal.

But, they both knew she wasn`t.

"No, no. There was no running. Well...no. I lied. There WAS running..." she paused to chuckle softly to herself. "...Just not into eachothers arms."

She let out a sigh, shifting in her chair as she crossed her legs beneath her.

"He, like I said, always had this uncanny way of just appearing out of nowhere. And, that day, was no exception." She continued, shaking her head. "I hadn`t even heard the Doctors, Nurses, Patients...whoever the hell was in that hospital, leave. I know you`re probably wondering 'how the hell is that even possible?' Well, you see, Mr. Gordon, I get lost in my head sometimes. Matter of fact, that`s one of the things Joker always said he liked about me."

"So...he just showed up?" he asked, glancing down at his notes for the first time in almost an hour, his pen scratching across the papers surface in a hurry to copy down her words.

"Yupp. Right behind me." she said, nodding to herself as if agreeing with some unheard conversation in her mind. "It`s all quiet, I`m slumped in the chair that always sat at the head of Mrs. White`s bed, half asleep and really not wanting to go home...so, you can imagine my surprise when I suddenly hear a voice say..."

_"Are you deaf or just stupid."_

_She jumped up from her seat, spinning around to face the figure that had somehow appeared to stand in the doorway behind her, lurking like a bad dream. Her sleep fogged eyes straining as he drew closer, trying to make out the man`s features and taking an involuntary step back when they finally did. Her action only making his smile widen._

_It was the clown from t.v._

_The man everybody called The Joker, his frame draped in a nurse's outfit. Small splotches of burgundy blood marring its otherwise pristine appearance._

_Her spine straightened out of reflex and fear, her eyes locked with his as he stepped closer, feeling herself be drug down unto their darkness, suffocating as it surrounded her, drowning her._

_His hand touched her shoulder, his lean fingers gripping at her skin as he pulled her close. The barrel of his gun, cold and smooth, pressed against the underside of her chin as she swallowed, het eyes closing, hands clenched at her sides._

_"My..." she heard him murmur, more to himself it seemed as his thumb came up to swipe quickly across her cheek. "Aren't you a pretty little one."_

_He erupted into a fit of high pitched giggles then, the sound so familiar from the almost daily plays on the news whenever they reported on his latest...'endeavor'._

_He lifted his hand from her shoulder, letting his fingertips slide lightly against the tightened muscles of her neck, coming to constrict around her jaw, tilting her head back._

_"Open your eyes?" His voice was amused, for a reason unknown to her, as he spoke, his grip tightening when she didn't comply, his tone rougher. "Open your eyes!"_

_'Your gonna die, stupid.' The voice in her head hissed as she slowly pried her eyes open to take in the face before her, sight blurred from the fear that coursed it's way through her veins, biting at her nerves._

_Begging her to take off and run._

_He was mere inches away at the most as her head was angled further, her eyes moving quickly from his, fixating on the smeared, haphazard paint job that covered his face, almost as if it were slapped on in a hurry as it dripped its way slowly off his skin, mixing with the small beads of sweat that dribbled down his temples._

_"W-what do you want?" She heard herself ask, her words were weak, feeble, as they fell from her lips, causing the man's grip to tighten, an unsettling smirk pulling at his the corners of his lips._

_"What do I want?" His voice was deep as he spoke, his tone mocking as he licked his lips. "What do you, uh, think I want?"_

_Silently she shrugged, casting her attention away over her shoulder as best she could, her eyes landing on Mrs. White, who slept only feet away._

_Close enough to touch._

_"To kill me."_

_It seemed the only logical option considering who he was._

_He didn't answer, instead, his grin widened, his stance shifting, allowing him to lean closer as his eyes darted quickly across her face._

_Silence._

_"Good, uh, guess. But wrong nonetheless." He finally said. His breath was hot as it fanned across her face and neck, his touch suddenly disappearing, the gun pulled away. "Actually, uh, I wanted play a game." _

_She felt her eyes narrow and, for a moment, the only sounds in the room were the slight hiss of the florescent lights that dangled lazily from the ceiling and their slow, even breathes._

_"W-what kind if game?" She said, lifting her foot in an attempt to step away, stopped by the raise of his eyebrow, the gun, now hanging at his side, cocking. "I don't l-like games."_

_"Oh, my little dov-ah, I have a feeling you'll love, uh, this game-" His words were interrupted with a chuckle, an evil twinkle appearing deep within his dark eyes. "It's the kinda game you can, uh, really stake your life on."_

_"And w-what if I don't wanna play?"_

_"See? That's the best part." He chuckled again, waving the gun, clenched in his hand, in her direction, the barrel skimming its way across her stomach. "If you don't, uh, play...I get to kill you. Either way, I win."_

_"So, kill me."_

"Wait." Detective Gordon said, one of his hands raising from the table to wave her silent, not noticing her jaw snap, eyes narrowing.

'Disrespectful son-of-a-bi-'

"If I hadn't-" she said through clenched teeth, her fists closing as she dropped her feet heavily onto the floor, watching Detective Gordon's eyes lower, his opened mouth shutting. "I seriously doubt I would be here telling you this story and being interrupted every two seconds!"

_He stared over at her in silent disbelief for a moment before shrugging, raising his gun back up into the air, taking aim._

_"Alright."_

_So, she waited._

_Waited for the deafening bang._

_For the world to turn red as the bullet pierced her skull..._

_...but, instead, there was a metallic click and the clatter of his gun falling to the tiled floor beneath them, his insane giggles causing her eyebrows to pull together, eyes dropping to stare down at the now useless hunk of metal at his feet._

_"You...son of a bitch..." she heard herself mumble, her head slowly shaking back and forth as the last few minutes sank in. _

_She looked up in time to see him turn, pausing, mid stride, in the doorway to glance over his shoulder, his tongue darting out to quickly swipe over the little paint that still clung to his lips._

_"By the way, if I were you, I'd, uh, start running."_

_And, that's exactly what she did._


End file.
